HEAT: How
to Stop the Planet from Burning by George Monbiot.
Cambridge, MA: South End Press, 2007. xx + 278 pages, index. Hardcover; $22.00.
ISBN: 9780896087798.

Published a
year earlier in the UK, this book now appears in a US edition (printed and
bound in Canada, by union workers), with a new foreword, and a 3-page list of
American organizational resources addressing the impact of climate change that
includes a few interfaith groups (but not the Au Sable Institute of
Environmental Studies). The cover image by E. Burtynsky shows a river glowing
fiery red against the blackened landscape of Sudbury, Ontario. The author (born
1963) read zoology at Brasenose College, Oxford; did investigative journalism
in Indonesia, Brazil, and Africa; and has written several books on environmental
and political causes. He is Visiting Professor of Planning at Oxford Brookes
University, UK. Here in Heat his thesis is that catastrophic climate
change can only be averted by reducing greenhouse gas emissions by 90%, a
reduction that can nevertheless be accomplished.

The foreword,
introduction, and first three chapters (with 2 graphs) set out the problem.
Fossil fuels have enabled the industrialized countries to raise their standard
of living enormously, but at the price of a looming change in climate comparable
to that at the time of the Permian mass extinction. Politicians have failed to
act, because of ignorance, or disinformation from the denial industry (chapter
2). The large cost of effective actions, not overwhelming compared to
expenditures such as subsidies or warfare, would amount to postponing the next
level of prosperity by only a few years in growing economies. A rationing scheme
is feasible: individuals get units of entitlement to emit carbon, to be
exchanged, together with the payment in money, when they buy electricity or
fuel.

In the next
seven chapters (not illustrated), details are worked out on how to accomplish
the 90% reduction: in home heating; in electricity production from fossil and
nuclear fuels, and from micro-generation; in transport, urban and regional, and
trans- and intercontinental; and in retailing and cement manufacture. The final
chapter Apocalypse Postponed urges readers to press politicians from talking
about the problem to taking effective action. Combining information from a
variety of reliable sources with his own insights, Monbiot argues convincingly
that these big reductions are feasible technically and economically, yet the
political will is essential. At the back of the book are the 1,011 notes the
text refers to, which cite mostly internet sources, with a few books and
articles in peer-reviewed scientific journals. The index fills 6 pages.

Monbiot has a
forceful style that keeps the readers interest in the quite technical subject
matter. However, some expected references do not appear, for example, John T.
Houghton, Global Warming: The Complete Briefing, 3rd ed. (Cambridge, UK:
Cambridge University Press, 2004). Nor does S. Pacala and R. Socolow,
Stabilization Wedges: Solving the Climate Problem for the Next Fifty Years with
Current Technologies, Science 305 (2004): 96872, which identifies
essentially the same ways as Heat, but with more emphasis on changes in
agriculture and forestry, which Monbiot rather belittles. Somewhat credible
arguments of academics who dispute the link between carbon dioxide and climate
change, like Richard Lindzen of MIT, are not discussed and refuted. (See Royal
Society at http://royalsociety.org/page.asp?id=6229). The detailed chapters
focus on the United Kingdom, with British words unfamiliar to Americans. Poorly
lagged [insulated] houses are less an issue in America, where air conditioning
is a greater concern. Crossing the country by coach on motorways [by bus on
freeways] is more feasible in Britain than in the United States and Canada.

The author
maintains a high moral tone, with a real concern for the plight of the
disadvantaged in the wealthy countries and particularly in the poor ones.
Organized religion and the church are ignored in the text, with belief not being
regarded positively: A faith in miracles grades seamlessly into excuses for
inaction. One author in the denial industry, Arthur B. Robinson, is
identified as a Christian fundamentalist. The inspirational text undergirding
the writing is Christopher Marlowe, Doctor Faustus (1604). An evangelical
treatment of this subject, also oriented toward Britain, is given by Nick
Spencer and Robert White in Christianity, Climate Change and Sustainable
Living (London: SPCK, 2007). Nevertheless, by reading Monbiots Heat,
anyone wanting good environmental stewardship will benefit, because this book
shows the way to a definite goal for carbon reductions to control global
heating.

Mark
Schapiro, editorial director of the Center for Investigative Reporting, has
written extensively on foreign affairs. His work has appeared in Harpers,
The Nation, The Atlantic Monthly, The New York Times Magazine, and
other publications. He has been a correspondent for Frontline/WORLD, NOW with
Bill Moyers, and public radios Marketplace. The publisher of this book is
dedicated to expanding the politics and practice of sustainability. Schapiros
book is definitely written with this goal in mind.

The main
premise of the book, which is summarized in chapter one, is that the United
States is no longer the worldwide leader in environmental protection. In the
1970s and 1980s, an American mix of scientific rigor and legal muscle gave birth
to a body of environmental regulation that was seen as a model for the rest of
the world. Back then, America wrote the rules and the rest of the world
followed. But leadership in the arena of environmental protection has switched
in recent years. It is the European Union that is asserting new priorities that
are far more protective of citizens health and the environment than those in
the United States. The European approach is based upon what is called the
precautionary principle, and the result is that many substances that are in wide
use in the United States are now banned in Europe. Not only are American
citizens less protected from toxic substances than Europeans, this difference in
perspective is also placing the American economy at risk. Regional economic
powers such as China, India, and Brazil are now looking to Brussels rather than
to Washington for new alliances, trade agreements, and sources of environmental
inspiration. This shift in power will, according to the author, most likely have
long-term effects on Americas global competitive edge. Specific examples of
the toxic chemistry of everyday products are presented throughout the rest of
the book.

In chapter
two, the toxic chemistry behind the American cosmetic industry is discussed.
Schapiro cites several reports which suggest that common substances in cosmetics are potential carcinogens, endocrine-disrupting chemicals, mutagens, and
reproductive toxins. Compounding the risk for the American consumer is the fact
that the Food and Drug Administration has no authority to regulate the
ingredients in cosmetics. The cosmetic companies, not the FDA, are responsible
for monitoring the safety of their products, but according to the author,
89 percent of cosmetics on the market today contain ingredients that have not
been assessed for safety either by the FDA or by the industry (p. 30). Much of
the world is now departing from the American laissez-faire approach to potential
cosmetic hazards and is instead turning to Europes more rigorous way of
assessing product safety.

The potential
health hazards of a family of polyvinyl-chloride plastic softeners called
phthalates are presented in chapter three. While phthalates have been banned
from toys in Europe, they are still present in many toys and other plastic
products purchased by American consumers. The failure of the United States to
ratify a global treaty called the Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic
Pollutants is lamented in chapter four. Genetically modified American crops,
that are not welcome in Europe for a variety of reasons, are the subject of
chapter five. Chapter six exposes the opposition of US industry to end-of-life
product principles that are presently being implemented in Europe. Other
examples of Americas failure to provide leadership in the arena of consumer and
environmental protection, including the Bush administrations refusal to sign
the Kyoto Protocol, are cited and discussed in chapters seven through nine.

While the
major premise of Schapiros book is certainly valid, the accuracy of some of his
specific claims may be called into question. Several relatively minor
inaccuracies make this reviewer wonder if other, more major, misrepresentations
may have been included. For example, on page 106, the author states that the
Illinois river flows past the historic city of Springfield, Illinois, birthplace
of Abraham Lincoln. In this one statement Shapiro is wrong on two counts:
Springfield is at least forty miles from the Illinois River and although Lincoln
lived in Springfield, he was born in Kentucky! In the same chapter, when
discussing corn cross-pollination, he states that seeds can fly from the
tassels, borne by the wind, from as far as six miles away (p. 93). Anyone with
even a little botanical knowledge should know that pollen flies from the
tassels, not seeds. To be fair to the author, the copy of the book received for
review was an uncorrected proof, so hopefully these and other inaccuracies
were corrected prior to publication.

One other
concern is that most of the endnotes included at the end of the book are
citations of conversations the author had with various individuals. Very few
scientific publications are cited in support of the authors claims. In spite of
these shortcomings, the overall message that Schapiro is declaring is a message
that American law- makers, governmental officials, and citizens need to hear.

The Stem
Cell Debate shows one of the risks and many of the fruits of writing
bioethics. In the first seventeen pages, Peters orients the ethical discussion
with the basic science of stem cell research. The description is well informed
with the caveat that whatever is well informed today can be quickly dated.
Peters was aware that induced pluripotent stem cells (iPS) were being pursued
from adult cells but states that they are not possible, a reasonable assessment
at the time of the books printing in early 2007. Since then Kazutoshi Takahashi
et al. has published in the November 2007 issue of Cell (pp. 86172) his
teams remarkable success with iPS. Induced pluripotent stem cells from adult
cells seem to be viable after all. This does not render Peters thoughtful book
irrelevant. While embryo sacrifice may not be the only source of human stem
cells, there are still many other current and projected practices that sacrifice
embryos. The book remains a helpful guide for a whole series of questions that
remain for how Christians should treat embryos in research, in pre-natal genetic
diagnosis, and in a myriad of other developing technologies.

Peters
helpfully describes the status of embryos according to three major theological
perspectives. One emphasizes embryo protection, a second the protection of
nature, and a third the duty to help fellow human beings medically. He explains
each view with care and offers a fair statement of challenges for each. At times
he does lump evangelicals under one version of the first perspective: that from
fertilization every human embryo is already a fellow human being. Actually,
despite repeated attempts by a number of evangelical organizations and presses
to enforce one position on this topic, there are many evangelicals that have
remained convinced of the historic Christian view, that a fellow human being is
not present until a point further along in pregnancy than fertilization. On the
second framework, protecting nature, Peters describes President Bushs Council
on Bioethics as the most influential source. That view is championed by Leon
Kass with the wisdom of repugnance as the crucial guide. Then Peters examines
the third framework, which makes a theological case for an obligation to develop
technology that heals.

Peters finds
the third view the most persuasive as he works consistently out of his proleptic
theology. For Peters, the key to understanding human beings is not what we have
been, but what God plans for us to be. The standard is not Garden of Eden; it
is, rather, the new heaven and the new earth that God promises in the Revelation
to John. Our essence as human beings is not in where we started, but in where
God is taking us. Christ takes precedence over Adam, grace over sin, the new
world over the old one. Jesus rose with scars in his hands and his side,
memories of his previous finite experience with human fallenness. Yet these
scars were healed. Resurrection heals �Ķ Science itself is not salvific, to be
sure; but by relieving human suffering and enhancing human flowering, medical
science fragmentarily incarnates ahead the grand healing that is Gods
eschatological promise (pp. 989).

Peters also
develops an argument that human dignity depends on our relationship with God and
one another and hence starts at implantation. It is at that point that beginning
human community establishes human dignity.

The book is
direct, lively, and fair to differing views on a topic easily obfuscated.
Further, it is remarkably concise for what it covers, just 122 pages in a
small-dimension format. It would be an excellent choice for a church dis-
cussion group or other lay audience, as well as for professionals getting
oriented to the discussion.

Thirty-six
scientists across a wide range of disciplines are interviewed by three notables:
(1) Lynn Margulis, noted biologist of the University of Massachusetts at
Amherst; (2) Eduardo Punset, host of the Spanish TV popular science program
Redes; and (3) David Suzuki, the well-known Canadian scientist,
environmentalist, and media personality. In each case, the interviewers seek to
have scientists explore those aspects of their scientific works that they find
most interesting. The result is a set of highly readable, engaging, and
thought-provoking essays on a wide array of topics that are still not well
understood. For example, five scientists (Nicholas Mackintosh, Robert Sapolsky,
Jane Goodall, Jordi Sabater Pi, and Edward O. Wilson) talk about culture before
humans existed based on their research with ants, bees, termites, and chimps.
They also study the nature of intelligence and cognitive processes in humans and
other animals.

A fascinating
set of three interviews explores the measurement of beauty, the science of
happiness, and the etiology of psychopaths. Other topics in this well-chosen and
tightly edited set of interviews include music, dreaming, genetics, the
body-mind problem, immortality, biospheres, evolution, bacteria, amoebae, and
matters at both subatomic scale and cosmic scale.

Quite a few
of the interviewees are asked to speculate about matters that one could class as
transcendent, and the answers are revealing about human nature and human
knowledge. Responses include those hostile to purpose or meaning in the world
such as the late Stephen J. Gould, Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, and Lisa
Randall. Also interviewed are scientists who accept the possibility of
transcendency including Paul Davies and Jane Goodall. What is highly evident
throughout the volume is the supreme confidence that these scientists have in
science itself and its ability to unravel the mysteries of life and the cosmos.

Several
scientists advance the view that a final theory that explains everything will
one day be found, surely a faith statement if there ever was one. In this sense,
we are all deeply metaphysical beings. The book makes for interesting reading
about a wide range of topics; it provides background for how and why scientists
investigate certain questions using scientific methods.

THE
SPIRITUAL BRAIN: A Neuroscientists Case for the Existence of the Soul by
Mario Beauregard and Denyse OLeary. New York: HarperCollins, 2007. 368 pages,
index. Hardcover; $25.95. ISBN: 0060858834.

Mario
Beauregard is one of the few scholars in neurology who is not a reductive
materialist, meaning that he does not reduce all experiences to their underlying
material construction and constituents. Beauregard contends that reductive
materialists, such as Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett, to name two
more-outspoken representatives, are mistaken to view the mind as reducible to
the brain. He has studied and researched neurology for many years, and is
convinced that counter to current opinion, a mystical state of consciousness
truly exists. He has written this book in tandem with journalist Denyse OLeary
in order to discuss the significance of his research findings on mystical
experiences and their irreducibility. Beauregard attempts to demonstrate that
the materialist nondistinction between mind and brain is in error, and instead
asserts strongly that they are two distinct entities. Mind truly exists, and so
does the brain. Beauregard could be construed as arguing that the mind is indeed
dependent upon the brain, but is also emergent from it. Emergence from the
brain, in this sense, entails that the mind has qualities that are not reducible
to its substrate (i.e., the brain) alone.

Beauregard
seeks to establish three main ideas: (1) that the nonmaterialist approach to the
human mind contains more explanatory power than does the reductive materialist
one; (2) that nonmaterialist approaches to the human mind are more productive in
terms of practical benefits than are reductive materialist ones; and (3) that
there exists the potential for spiritual experiences which can radically
transform lives via contact with a reality outside of material forces. In his
argument Beauregard notes that neural synapses within the brain operate
according to quantum physics, and not according to classical (Netonian)
physics, and that therefore materialist accounts of the mind and brain are out
of step with current physics and thus do not advance research. Moreover,
Beauregard posits that materialism leads to hypotheses that can never be tested,
and thereby undermines scientific neural research.

The second
chapter addresses why it is nonsensical, scientifically, to speak of a God
gene as directing perceived spiritual sensations. Chapter three disputes
the notion that there is a God module within the brain that accounts for
religious visions, sensations of ecstasy, and related phenomena. Chapter four
critically engages the not-so established scientific work of Michael Persinger,
who attempted to demonstrate that spirituality could be induced by a God
helmet which specifically stimulated the temporal lobe in differential
increments causing quasi-spiritual sensations. Chapter five is probably the
strongest one in which Beauregard expounds upon what, exactly, the mind is.
The other chapters develop notions of how the mind acts upon the brain, as
supported by Beauregards own research.

It should be
noted forthrightly that the intention of this book is not to argue that
evolution did not occur. Rather, Beauregard intends to raise questions
regarding whether a fully reductive, naturalistic process of human evolution is
tenable without invoking meaning, purpose, direction, or design. This Beauregard
does by analyzing the seemingly inherent spirituality within humans. Beauregard
notes that while the logical extrapolations of Charles Darwins metascientific
evolutionary paradigm temporarily displaced the special status of human beings
within the cosmos, modern biology and neuroscience seem to be restoring humans
to a semblance of their former lofty position. Beauregard advocates that the
only strong argument against purpose and design being present within the
evolutionary epic of the cosmos is the advancement of the hypothesis that our
universe is an accidental success amid a proverbial limitless number of other
failed universes. This position currently has little scientific support.

Beauregard
concludes with the contention that though studying what occurs within peoples
brains cannot directly prove or disprove spiritual experiences (or, for that
matter, the realities that said experiences point to), they nonetheless can give
credence to such extrapolations. I heartily advocate the purchase of this book.

OUR DAY TO
END POVERTY: 24 Ways You Can Make a Difference by Shannon
Daley-Harris and Jeffrey Keenan. San Francisco, CA:
Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2007. 216 pages, index. Paperback; $14.95. ISBN:
9781576754467.

This book is
for those who are interested in making a difference in ending extreme poverty in
our world. The authors goal is very practical and is described in
their introduction:

This book
doesnt give extended analyses or mountains of data relating to all the complex
issues surrounding poverty. We expect that you already know enough that you too
find it intolerable. What you will find here is what you can do, starting today,
to help end the long night of extreme poverty that more than a billion people in
the world now endure.

The two main
authors have experience in dealing with poverty-related issues. Shannon
Daley-Harris has worked for the Childrens Defense Fund and the National Council
of Churches on issues related to poverty and children. Jeffrey Keenan is a
strategic initiatives manager with Adobe Systems and looks at these issues from
the perspective of someone trained in business.

The topics
are based on the United Nations Millennium Development Goals. Each of the
twenty-four chapters is related to one or more of these goals. Much attention is
paid to Goal 1 (eradication of extreme poverty), Goal 2 (universal primary
education), Goals 5 and 6 (health issues), and Goal 7 (ensuring environmental
sustainability).

Each chapter
is short, about six to ten pages, and deals with a single topic. The chapters
are organized by the issues a reader might face as he or she goes through a
typical day. For example, the section on morning starts with breakfast and
discusses hunger issues. It then moves on to getting the kids to school and
discusses primary education. Each chapter starts with a general background
discussion of the topic which is followed by four sections of recommended
actions: (1) lists things that can be done to learn more about the topic; (2)
shows how the reader can contribute (both time and money) to groups working on
this problem; (3) discusses how to serve others in helping to solve the problem;
and (4) describes how to live on a day-to-day basis while helping in this area.

The authors
show real creativity in their suggestions. Many groups have suggested that we
conserve water. If you do so, one of the results will be a lower water bill.
They suggest you keep track of how much you save on water and give this amount
to a nonprofit agency that is working in the water conservation/purification
area. These sorts of creative suggestions are what set this book apart from many
others. For example, while it is good for this reviewer to conserve water at his
home in Texas, it is hard to see how this directly helps someone in North
Africa. However, by giving the money I save while also saving water, I can help
poor villagers in North Africa get access to better and cleaner water.

This book is
not written to be read at one sitting. It should be read one chapter a day, so
that the reader can think about the suggestions. There are more than four
hundred specific recommended actions, and the authors do not expect anyone to
try to do them all. Although this book is not written from an explicitly
Christian perspective, it is Christian friendly. A number of the suggestions are
for the reader to involve his or her worship community in doing a particular
action. Given the politically charged nature of poverty and environmental
issues, most readers (like this reviewer) will disagree with some of the
recommendations. On the other hand, this book has so many very good
recommendations, it is worth reading. The authors have clearly met their goal of
providing many suggested actions that the reader can take to help fight poverty.

This book is
not aimed directly at scientists and engineers. It will appeal to Christians
from any background who are interested in making a difference in helping
poor people. However, some of the things we can do to help eradicate poverty do
have scientific or engineering implications. The chapters on health, housing,
water, transportation, and energy all contain suggestions that could probably
best be implemented by people who have a technological background.

Of the Palm
Sunday triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, Scripture says that had the
people remained silent, the very rocks would acclaim the King of kings. What a
description! Beyond poetry, is such a thing possible? William Noel, a museum
curator, and Reviel Netz, a mathematical historian, describe a singular instance
of this phenomenon, albeit with respect to Archimedes rather than with respect
to the Messiah. Rather than rocks crying out, the mildewed parchment pages of an
old prayer bookwhich the scribe, John Myronas, finished copying in Jerusalem,
upon recycled pages of an older manuscript, on the day before Easter 1229cry
out the ideas of and give praise to the old Greek master geometer. How so?

Noel and Netz
write alternating chapters in a detective style about the story behind an old
book bought at auction by a reclusive patron of the arts for $2 million in 1998.
Noel documents the books physical transformation through time. Netz itemizes
the books mathematical significance, ultimately concluding that Archimedes may
be the father of combinatoricsas well as being an even greater giant than we
had previously imaginedupon whose shoulders Newton and Leibniz were able to
discover the calculus.

The book
begins with the story of Archimedes writing letters on papyrus scrolls to
several natural philosophers, describing solutions to a variety of geometrical
conundrums. Over the years, copies of these letters were made, ultimately onto
the new medium of sheaves of bound parchment, which in turn were copied
according to demand, resources, and need. In time, all but one of these was
lost. This last copy somehow survived the 1204 Crusader sack of Constantinople.
A few years later, it too was seemingly destroyed. Its binding was undone, its
pages scraped of words and figures. Then its pages were cut in half and stacked,
to be used as smaller-sized pages of new books. One of them was Myronas prayer
book, which was used in services for three centuries.

In 1906, a
philologist stumbled upon the prayer book and recognized the faint writings of
Archimedes beneath the prayer script. He carefully photographed pertinent pages
and translated what he could. Thereafter the book disappeared again, and
ultimately wound up on the auction block. By this time, the book was in
extremely poor condition. The new owner had it restored and studied with todays
technology. If you wish to learn first-hand the details of this codex, this is
the book to read, for the authors are the team leaders who restored and
translated this manuscriptor palimpsest, as it is called.

The authors
narrate their discoveries in a lively style. For example, Noel describes his
initial feelings about working on the codex as those of a nervous puppy trying
to come to grips with the biggest fish of my little career (p. 12). Netz
describes his feelings while first reading through an especially clever argument
of Archimedes: By God you exclaim, he is actually going to prove this
precisely, no fudges made! (p. 47). The book includes copious exchanges of
e-mail during the discovery process. For my taste, the authors could safely
prune some of these personal insights without lessening the impact and flow
of their story to the reader.

If you want a
clear, first exposure to Archimedes mathematics, I recommend Steins
introduction.1
Next read this book. Archimedes, like Newton, is notoriously cryptic. Indeed, as
Netz points out on page 237, Arab translators of Archimedes rewrote his works
for increased clarity. Yet Netzas he should, in the context of his chapters of
discoverytakes us through the cryptic parts. Sometimes the reader can be
overwhelmed by the underlying mathematical arguments cloaked in old Greek
archaic conventions. Such style is the two-edged strength and weakness of the
mathematical historian.

As I read
this book and wondered how to review it, I realized that the book is a review of
Archimedes work. From the experience of reading critics of his own works, C. S.
Lewis, in an essay On Criticism, admonishes any reviewer including Noel and
Netz (and me, too):

Nearly all
critics are prone to imagine that they know a great many facts relevant to a
book which in reality they dont know. The chances of their being right are low,
even when they are made along sensible lines.2

At times, out
of enthusiasm, Netz seems to jump to conclusions too quickly. For example, on
the basis of the names Pheidias (Archimedes father) and Archimedes,
he concludes that Archimedes father was an astronomer, and his grandfather was
an artist (pp. 367). Why not phrase the conclusion as a whimsical guess
instead? On page 147, he says that Archimedes codified the dictum that the
universe could be understood by modeling it through mathematics. Yet Aristotle
championed this idea long before Archimedes.3
Netz concludes: Archimedes is the most important scientist who ever lived (pp.
29, 284). Wait a minute! Natural philosophers are not baseball players. There is
no home-run king among those who study the universe. It is enough to say that
Archimedes was great.

Finally, this
book celebrates ten years of work and is a charming tale of goodness. Experts in
old manuscripts and imagery analysis gave freely of their time on this project.
The thrill of working on revealing some of the lost works of Archimedes was
reward enough for their labor a telling tribute to the enduring genius of
Archimedes. For whom else would people give like service?

Notes

1Sherman
Stein, Archimedes: What Did He Do Besides Cry Eureka? (Washington, DC:
The Mathematical Association of America, 1999).

Crediting
religious faith and ecclesiastical affiliation as significant motivating and
contextualizing factors has become commonplace in the history of science. It is
still a relative novelty in the history of mathematics. The 2005 book
Mathematics and the Divine: A Historical Study (see
www.maa.org/reviews/MathDivine.html), consisting of thirty-five diverse articles
on the relation of religion and mathematics, is a substantial exception. The
book we are now considering is another. It is a revision of the authors
prize-winning 1999 PhD dissertation written at Yale University under historian
of Victorian science Frank Turner.

Daniel
Cohens training is in history of religion and history of science, with a
particular focus on aspects of nineteenth-century British and American
mathematics. This book kicks off a new series, the Johns Hopkins Studies in the
History of Mathematics. While it fails to engage secondary literature published
since 1999, it nevertheless draws upon and analyzes a wealth of Victorian
primary source materialbooks, articles, personal correspondence, and sermons.
Cohen breaks new ground in his treatment of nineteenth-century English-speaking
mathematicians, bringing it more in line with what is typically done in history
of science.

Cohens main
thesis is that pure mathematics in mid-nineteenth-century England and America
(primarily mathematical logic, along with some work on algebra and number
systems) owes its origin to neo-Platonic, Kantian, and transcendental
philosophies of mathematics as well as to religious idealism seeking to promote
toleration. Only later in the century, as professionalization became a greater
concern, did British mathematicians officially begin to distance themselves from
their earlier grand philosophical and theological positions. Taking a more
modest and secular approach to mathematics, the door was left open to
anti-religious agendas for symbolic logic that went far beyond merely bypassing
theological justification and approbation for mathematical truths.

After an
opening introduction that nicely summarizes the aims and outline of the work,
Cohen devotes five chapters to developing his books thesis. The first chapter
sketches some historical sources and precursors for the early Victorian
perspective on mathematics, chapters two through four discuss the work and
outlook of three pivotal mathematicians (Benjamin Peirce, United States; George
Boole, Ireland; and Augustus De Morgan, England), and the final chapter argues
that the trend toward professionalization redirected the British outlook on
mathematics during the last half of the century.

Cohen points
out that many early-Victorian thinkers succumbed to an almost giddy neo-Platonic
vision of mathematics. Chapter Two, God and Math at Harvard: Benjamin Peirce
and the Divinity of Mathematics, makes this abundantly clear. Pure mathematics
transcends the mundane world of sensory experience, rising to sublime heights of
spiritual truth in its equations and abstract mathematical patterns.
Mathematicians grasp and formulate the most intimate divine truths in a way that
cannot be matched by the divisive dogmas of sectarian theologies. At his funeral
in 1880, Benjamin Peirce was eulogized by a Harvard colleague as one who, being
a first-rate mathematician, knew more about the realm of spiritual being than
anyone else who ever trod the earth, that he beheld God, entered into the Divine
mind, drank in truth from its living and eternal fountain, as no other human
being ever did (pp. 423). Quite a claim, considering the potential merits of
other candidates one might propose, such as Moses or St. Paul or St. Augustine!
Peirces vocation and faith were essentially one; mathematics is a religion in
its own right. His theology deemphasized the core dogmas of Christianity and
indeed the figure of Christ himself, settling instead on a broad monotheistic
faith in which the quest for mathematical truth and the quest to know God were
identical. Benjamin Peirce saw his work with equations as a way to access the
heavenly realm, and would occasionally add the exclamation Gentlemen, there
must be a God to his mathematical demonstrations (p. 43). For Peirce,
enthralled by the divine character of mathematics, there was little need for
the intermediary of Christ. God would be revealed through equations (p. 75).

The
centerpiece of Cohens book is the genesis of mathematical logic. Cohen claims
to have uncovered the hidden story behind the origin and rise of symbolic
logic in Great Britain in the religious motivation of its creators. Boole and De
Morgan, he notes, did not share the secular agenda of twentieth-century logical
positivists who used symbolic logic to demolish various metaphysical and
religious perspectives as meaningless. Instead, logic was a tool they could use
to rise above rigid orthodoxy and sectarian conflict by challenging certain
dogmatic claims. Logical activity was to be pursued in the service of true
ecumenical religion rather than as a way to undermine all religion.

Cohens
treatment of Boole and De Morgan gives the reader a broad and detailed
intellectual context in which to place their work, and it helps one understand
what religious ideas may have motivated each logician to develop and apply his
mathematical ideas. Cohen is not the first to point out this aspect of the
history. MacHales 1985 biography George Boole: His Life and Work, for
instance, does something similar, and at times is more nuanced and cautious in
its use of questionable source material. Yet Cohens presentation gives us a
more full-blooded picture of the overall context in which Boole and De Morgan
actually worked than that provided by the typical history of mathematics
narrative. Such works tend to concentrate so heavily on technical details that
the reader often loses track of the country and century in which the ideas
arose. An internalist approach gives us too little history, is often
anachronistic, and is usually out of touch with current trends in
historiography, where context is more than window-dressing.

Cohens
monograph, by contrast, tells a well-written and interesting story about the
mathematics as part of a bigger whole. Yet I should note there is something
missing here that was present in the narrower narratives. One reads Cohens book
in vain to learn about the trends in mathematics or logic that fed into the new
developments undertaken by Boole and De Morgan. This seems very peculiar to me.
Why is there no discussion of the revival of deductive logic set in motion by
the work of Richard Whately, William Hamilton, and others as a backdrop to that
of Boole and De Morgan? Why is there no discussion of the rise of a more formal
analytic approach to mathematics and algebra promoted by members of the
Cambridge Analytical Society and others prior to the 1847 publications by Boole
and De Morgan on symbolic logic? These antecedent trends provide the specific
logical and mathematical contexts for evaluating their work and are just as
relevant as the religious and philosophical and educational contexts that Cohen
so artfully discusses. Cohen seems to think the broader epi-mathematical context
explains everything of historical importance for the mathematics that ensues, so
he can afford to neglect the ways these new developments are situated within the
mathematics and the logic of the time. He writes as if Booles and De Morgans
desire to rise above sectarian squabbles and promote a more tolerant attitude
toward religion is motivation enough to explain their logical discoveries. This
surely overstates the case; much more is needed to flesh out the full picture
and demonstrate just why their innovations are so important. Perhaps technical
mathematics and logic lie outside Cohens particular expertise, but then he
should indicate just what he is bracketing out and not leave the impression that
what remains is a full analysis of all relevant factors. I am not requesting a
return to old-fashioned history of mathematics, just more attention to the
mathematics and logic involved. In fact, I would even welcome Cohens approach
applied to the technical trends themselves: identify the underlying worldviews
and philosophical outlooks that drive and give them meaning, too.

Aside from
this criticism of the books scope and intent, I found this a well-researched
and engaging book, one that breaks through the traditional mold for writing
history of mathematics. It conveys a wealth of information about some well-known
mathematicians, and it challenges modern stereotypes about the relation between
mathematics and religion. Not all readers will agree, but I find it also
contains an instructive cautionary tale about the dangers of Christian
Platonism, which still attracts many mathematicians today: taking mathematical
ideas to be divine may have a pious motivation, but such a viewpoint has within
it the seeds of a full-fledged anti-Christian religion stemming from its pagan
pedigree.

Who would
benefit from reading such a book? Certainly anyone interested in the topic of
science and religion. Those of us with a special interest in history of
mathematics will likely want our own copy of the book. It is one of the few
examples we have of how mathematics and religion can be related in a scholarly
work.

Origins: A
Reformed Look at Creation, Design and Evolution is a theological and
scientific analysis of the variety of creation-views held by evangelical
Christians. Examining these views from the cosmological, geological, and
biological perspectives, it provides a clear, concise introduction of the issues
in a manner that is accessible (and of interest) even at the high school level.
Its impact, however, will extend far beyond the high school level. This book
provides such a clear and broad perspective on the various approaches that it
will be of value even to those who have been thinking about origins for many
years. Each chapter concludes with a fine set of discussion questions and
several references. Interspersed throughout the narrative are text-boxes which
refer the reader to the books excellent website for a more in-depth analysis of
a particular topic.

The book
begins with an outstanding overview of the scientific process, how worldviews
influence that process, and the harmony that ought to exist as we allow both
Gods Word and Gods world to inform us about creation. The Creator speaks to
us, the authors continually remind us, not just through the words of Scripture,
but also through the words of creation itself. By using extensive scriptural
references, and by writing in a tone that is truly worshipful, the narrative
succeeds in fostering a sense of unity in the midst of Christian diversity. It
is highly sensitive to, and deeply respectful of, the diverse viewpoints that
exist within evangelical Christianity. Although written by physical scientists,
the biological data are covered well and all of the data are continuously
analyzed in light of theological considerations.

In order to
put the many influences on the origins question into perspective, the book does
a very fine job of comparing our current situation to the Galileo affair of four
hundred years ago. The authors show that in Galileos day scriptural
proof-texting, political maneuvering, over-reliance on inadequate scientific and
religious traditions, and super-egos, which obscured access to Gods truth,
all had an impact on the controversy. History, they aptly show, is repeating
itself in todays world as well.

I especially
appreciate their chapter on the scientific process. Here they clearly lay out
the three different levels at which scientific data are interpreted:
experimental, observational, and historical. Each, they show with very clear
examples, is a valid way by which the scientific process enables us draw to
conclusions about the natural world. They show that we cannot always do
experiments, but that data based on other ways of knowing are equally valid.

Although the
authors are very sensitive and highly respectful of diverse views, they
nonetheless do not mince words when it is clear to them that certain approaches
are inconsistent with scientific data and/or biblical interpretation. The earth
is not young and life has been evolving, as they see it, for a very long time.
Given the thorough nature of their analysis and the gentle way in which they
explore the options, it is difficult to imagine anyone objecting to their style.
So cautious are they in their desire to help the reader reach his or her own
conclusions, it seems at times as though the book does not take a position on
an issue. But it does, and they let the analysis speak for itself. This is
writing at its best. I think this is especially true in their analysis of the
Intelligent Design movement.

This book is
an outstanding resource, especially for young people in high school and college
who are trying to put their growing knowledge of science into the context of the
traditional evangelical faith. Personally, I know of no book that does this
better or that I would recommend more highly.

The one
limitation of the book may well be its greatest strength. It is put out by the
publishing arm of the Christian Reformed Church. The authors make it clear
throughout that they are addressing the issues from within the Reformed
tradition. Indeed, two of the three appendices are documents that are
denominational position papers. As I see it, the fact that they were unabashedly
writing from within a particular theological tradition allows them to explore
issues in greater depth than they would be able to do if they were writing more
generically. As a person highly influenced by a different theological tradition
(Wesleyan/Arminian), there were times when I wished that those in my tradition
had a book as powerful and carefully laid out as this one is. I imagine that
there will be others from other traditions who will feel a need for their own
special theological version of this wonderful book as well.

I have been
waiting for a book like this for a long time. I have wanted a book that clearly
lays out the options in a textbook-like fashion at the introductory level, one
which allows the reader to come to his or her own conclusions without a sense of
coercion, and one which provides a balance between theological and scientific
considerations. This comes as close as any I have seen to being that book.
I recommend it highly.

This book
aims to show that science cannot stop offering natural explanations when it
encounters nonnatural phenomena. When problems arise such as the discovery of
complex design, the assumption is that a natural expla- nation will be found.
What might be a nonnatural phenomenon will be explained as natural (pp. 445)
even if the explanation is fictional and does not correspond to a reality (pp.
468). The assumption is that there is a problem with the research, not with
what Hunter calls the naturalistic paradigm.

Hunter uses
the term theological naturalism for this naturalistic paradigm. He means that
the historic reasons for believing that nature runs on its own and that natural
phenomena must be explained accordingly, that is, as a result of natural causes
using human reason, were theological. God does not act in nature, for instance,
because God is too great or cannot be too close to the evil one finds in nature.
Thus the term theological naturalism means that naturalism had a theological
justification although the subtitleThe Unseen Religion of Scientific
Naturalismsuggests that the author also sees naturalism functioning as a
religion or as a theology.

The strategy
is to show that the history of science is littered with failed explanations. For
most working scientists, failure is a reason to find good natural explanations.
But Hunter takes the failures as having reached the point at which the paradigm
of explanation in terms of natural causes needs to be questioned. For him the
fact that this path is not taken shows that the naturalistic paradigm cannot
be falsified. This allows him to level the playing field for the two explanatory
alternatives. [T]hose committed to naturalistic explanations, like those
committed to supernaturalistic explanations, can always devise a theory to
explain what we observe. Like supernaturalism, naturalism can never be judged a
failure, for there is no test for failure (p. 68).

The parade of
failures is a mixed bag. In cosmology (chap. 4) he reviews explanations of the
fact that the orbits of the then known planets were aligned roughly in one plane
and that the planets including their known satellites orbited the sun in the
same direction. The explanatory options considered at the time were divine
design (Newton), one single cause (Laplace) and several independent causes
(Bernoulli). Bernoulli calculated that the probability of independent causes
resulting in the observed alignment was negligible. The requirement for natural
causes ruled out Newtons explanation. Thus the rotating nebula was the only
viable hypothesis left. But Hunter describes the situation as forcing an
either-or decision between independent causes (he calls this random chance) and
a mechanistic process (p. 56). It escapes me why he does not see both as
mechanical explanations. He then reviews new problems in the recent history of
the nebular hypothesis. While most practicing planetary scientists would take
unsolved problems as characteristic for a science that deals with the history
of the planetary system, Hunter counts it as evidence against the naturalistic
paradigma failure to grasp the historical nature of planetary science and
the role of interpretation in it. A more effective example is the fine tuning of
the universe. Hunter points out that, while fine tuning could be explained in
supernatural terms, only a naturalistic explanation in terms of many worlds is
acceptable. The many-world hypothesis is a good example of sciences blind spot:
it not only commits science to anti-realism, but it is untestable in principle.

In reviewing
evolutionary biology, the focus is on failed predictions rather than
explanations. This issue arises because in chapter 5 Hunter introduces Poppers
falsification view of scientific progress as the gold standard for science, and
then spends chapters 5 and 6 listing failed predictions that should have led to
falsification of the theory of evolution, but did not. Sometimes Hunter is on
target: Evolution is supposed to have produced a fine-tuned [molecular] machine
that is, in turn, supposed to be the engine for evolution itself. This is
circular, for without variation, natural selection is powerless to work (p.
76). But he misses his target just as often. One prediction (chap. 6) is that
species without a common ancestor cannot have similarities (no convergent
evolution). Such species, however, do exist (pp. 845), and this is, according
to Hunter, another falsification patched up with just-so stories. But on closer
examination the similarities show many differences in detail. The differences in
detail between the vertebrate eye and the squid eye are what make it possible to
distinguish them from similarities due to common descent (homologies) in the
first place. This applies to all convergencies such as those between marsupial
and placental mammals as well as between African and American succulent plants.
Thus common descent is not falsified and does not need to be patched up.

It is
unfortunate that the evidence for the failures of naturalism is a mixed bag
because he does not need them to show that science is unable to establish its
own limits. The limits of science are not subject to scientific problem-solving
because these limits do not belong to the material world and are not subject to
causation. They belong to the metaphysical context of science. Thus the
boundaries of science depend on ones beliefs about the nature of reality. In
the eyes of a theist, a metaphysical naturalist like E. O. Wilson will
re-describe reality such that what others consider to be nonmaterial (e.g.,
moral standards) or supernatural (e.g., God) is reduced to material reality
and thus subject to explanation in terms of natural causes. But such boundaries
do not exist for a materialist.

The book
fails on two other important points. First, the failed explanations of science
are not failures of explanation in terms of natural causes. Rather they are the
inevitable result of a process of trial and error by which we learn. They
originate in human limitation. By ignoring the successes of explanation in terms
of natural causes, Hunter fails to see that it works better than explanation
in terms of supernatural or nonnatural causes. Take the history of
twentieth-century embryology. Parts of many embryos can develop into complete
and normal organisms. Initially this ability was seen as the effect of forces
characterized variously as nonnatural, psychic or non-material. These
explanations were replaced by accounts in terms analogous to a physical force
field, the so-called embryonic field. In the late twentieth century, the
material causes underlying this ability were identified as ribonucleic acids and
proteins that could regulate the expression of genetic information. A natural
reality replaced a supernatural reality.

Hunter also
neglects the historical dimension of cosmology and biology. While the role of
interpretation in historical biology is larger than in experimental biology,
it can be tested. Take biogeography. The continents of Australia and South
America were once connected via Antarctica. Pouched mammals are found alive in
Australia as well as in South America. It was predicted that they had migrated
from South America to Australia via the Antarctic continent. In 1981 a fossil
pouched mammal was found on Seymour Island in the Antarctic (Science 218,
no. 4569 [15 October 1982]: 2846). Thus historical biology is not all
interpretation and no prediction and testing. Moreover, in this example, we have
consistency between two very different collections of evidence: geophysical and
biogeographical observations and explanations match. In addition, each
discipline accounts for its own distinct range of phenomena from global patterns
of earthquakes and volcanism to the geography of plants and animals. With such a
wide empirical scope, a theory has a large probability of being falsified. The
fact that these two theories have not been falsified has turned them into strong
accounts.

The
conclusions of the book are confusing. Hunter praises as well as condemns what
he calls naturalistic explanation. It seems he wants to introduce explanation
in terms of supernatural causes into the natural sciences, a conclusion he
supports with the observation that good science was possible without full-blown
naturalism (p. 103). But here he mixes two very different roles of religion in
science. Ideas about how God may have created the world have been fruitful as
toeholds for research, regardless of whether they were justified theologically
or were correct. But explaining natural phenomena as the result of divine action
is a science stopper. Not only do we not know why God made things the way they
are so that predictions might be made, but it is also impossible to manipulate
God as a variable in a scientific experiment. I leave aside that going in this
direction would be spiritually inappropriate and also that it is theologically
questionable to assume that Gods action in the world can be conceived in terms
of causal action.

The author is
not familiar with common philosophical terminology: scientific deduction is said
to be based on empirical observation (pp. 59, 111). There are category mistakes:
panspermia is classified together with special creation as a supernatural
alternative to naturalistic explanation (p. 144). The science is not reliable.
Altogether, this does not inspire confidence in the reliability of the book. Not
recommended.

Person,
Grace, and God is another volume in Eerdmans Sacra Doctrina series,
which attempts to articulate Christian theology for a postmodern age. It
should not surprise the reader, then, that Philip A. Rolnick, professor of
theology at the University of St. Thomas (Minnesota), critically engages both
ancient and contemporary thinkers in this fascinating study of the human. It is
common in such reviews to utilize adjectives such as wide-ranging; in this
case, such a word would fail to communicate the breadth of Rolnicks engagement.
He discusseswith intimate and authoritative knowledgethinkers as diverse as
Boethius and W. D. Hamilton, Hans Ur von Balthasar and Richard of St. Victor,
Immanuel Levinas and Jean-Pierre Changeux, among many others. The volume is rich
and deep, occasionally dense, more often eloquent, and seldom without value.

Rolnick is in
search of the human person, perhaps in a search-and-rescue mission of sorts, to
deliver the idea of personality from the neo-Darwinists, postmodernists, and
monist neuroscientists who would obliterate the concept in the name of nature,
language, or physicalism. Tellingly, he begins his anthropology with theology
(the question about humanity is necessarily a question about God, p. 208),
providing a historical sketch of the Trinitarian and Christological
controversies of the early centuries of the Church with a particular focus on
how the concept of a divine person emerged as a means of uniting the churchs
commitment to divine simplicity (monotheism) with a Trinitarian understanding of
God (as well as to the dual human/divine nature of Christ). His historical
narrative ends with Aquinas, which is disappointing. One wonders if his study of
the person could have been better informed by, for instance, Jonathan Edwards
reflections on religious affections and the role of will in human action.

The
centrality of Aquinas eventually becomes clear, however, as Rolnick borrows
Aquinass understanding of relation as a means of understanding the Trinitarian
paradox: Uniquely, in God the real relations among Father, Son, and Spirit are
a between that is also an in. The real relations are between the
persons in the absolutely shared and common divine nature (p. 195,
emphasis in the original). Recognizing the uniqueness of the Trinitarian
dynamic, Rolnick nevertheless draws from Aquinas this relational understanding
of the human person. He locates the person in the gift of God, defined as grace,
both the grace of life received from God and the specific soteriological grace
of Christ. Because we are recipients of creation and capable of receiving
relation, person and gift are mutually constitutive. If we think through the
logic of creation, we cannot think our own existence without gift as its
raison dtre (p. 168, emphasis in the original).

For the
readers of this journal, Rolnicks chapters on neo-Darwinist understandings of
the person and the questions about human soul and mind raised by modern
neurology may be of most interest. He is particularly interested in how the
neo-Darwinists interpret altruism, which, unless redefined or explained in
consequentialist terms, provides a powerful argument against Dawkins selfish
gene argument. Here he attempts to recover the notion of transcendence, linking
human goodness to ideals of love, goodness, and beauty that serve ultimately as
the basis for defining personality. Incommunicability is Rolnicks means of
expressing the uniqueness of the human person, in contrast to those aspects of
nature shared by all persons or material entities. Repeatedly, he finds such
transcendent ideals located in Gods activity toward humans and in the
corresponding relations between humans.

If there is a
criticism of this volume, it may be that Rolnick has attempted too much. There
is room for a book-length critique of the more radical postmodernist
deconstructions of the person; there is also need for an extended dialogue with
the neo-Darwinists and with those who would assert a purely physical or monistic
understanding of the human; there may also be opportunity for a fuller
discussion of how Christian theologians have defined the human in their quest to
better understand the divine. Each of these has its literature and language
and few are sufficiently familiar with all of them to fully appreciate the
thread Rolnick weaves through them. Nevertheless, he contributes something of
value to each of these conversations and, as such, deserves a wide and
appreciative audience.

THERE IS A
GOD: How the Worlds Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind by Antony
Flew (with Roy Abraham Varghese). New York: HarperOne, 2007.
222 pages. Hardcover; $24.95. ISBN: 0061335290.

This is an
intriguing and controversial book. Taken at face value, it is a lively, almost
chatty narrative of a prominent British philosophers intellectual pilgrimage
from atheistic humanism to deism and perhaps more. A distinguished analytical
philosopher of religion and Gifford lecturer, Antony Flew, over the course of
his long career, wrote a number of influential essays and books arguing against
theism. Part I of There Is a God, My Denial of the Divine, provides a
highly readable summary of Flews atheism. To put it far too briefly, Flew
argued that since religious statements, especially about the existence of God,
are incoherent and require endless qualification to become meaningful, the
burden of proof rests with theism. For over half a century, Flew concluded that
theism has failed to provide it.

For some
time, especially since 2001, there have been rumors that Flews commitment to
atheism might be wavering. Then in December 2004, the Associated Press followed
by many major broadcast, print, and online outletsreported that scientific
evidence had now convinced one of the worlds leading atheists to believe in
God, albeit a God of the philosophers (particularly Aristotle), not of revealed
religion. Only some kind of super-intelligence, the 81-year-old Flew now
maintained, could account for the origin of life and sheer complexity of the
natural order. Predictably, while Christian apologists and intelligent design
advocates celebrated Flews change of mind, atheists downplayed the significance
of the defection.

Part II, My
Discovery of the Divine, briefly summarizes the reasoning behind Flews
conversion to deism, again in very accessible prose. Modern science, he argues,
poses three questions that now point him to God: (1) How did the laws of nature
come to be? (2) How did life emerge from nonlife? and (3) How do we account for
the very existence of nature? Citing a variety of scientific and philosophical
arguments from scholars familiar to readers of this journalpeople such as Paul
Davies, John Barrow, Richard Swinburne, John Leslie, Thomas Tracy, and Brian
LeftowFlew concludes that these questions are best answered by assuming an
Intelligence that explains both its own existence and that of the world[:] �Ķ a
self-existent, immutable, immaterial, omnipotent, and omniscient Being (p.
155). While there is little new here for those well versed in the recent
literature of science and religion, the account of Flews engagement with this
material is riveting. In some respects it represents an executive summary of an
important part of the contemporary science-and-religion conversation.

Publication
of the book and Mark Oppenheimers New York Times Magazine piece, The
Turning of an Atheist (November 4, 2007), has created a firestorm of
controversy, especially in the blogosphere. The major bone of contention is
whether Varghese and others manipulated the aging Flew into accepting arguments
he would have readily denied when he was more mentally agile. Flew apparently
reviewed and signed off on multiple drafts of a manuscript Varghese composed
from interviews, correspondence, and the philosophers writings. The final
version was then copy edited and rendered more user friendly by evangelical
author Bob Hostetler. Troubled by Oppenheimers account of its allegedly
questionable origins, critics have charged that There Is a God
is a bogus book and that Christian apologists have shamelessly exploited a
confused, elderly man in a state of cognitive decline. Offended by such
charges, Varghese has responded that Oppenheimers piece is clearly slanted;
that there was nothing untoward in the writing process; and that it is insulting
to portray Flew as just a senescent scholar. In a statement released by
HarperOne, Flew himself stated: I may be old but it is hard to manipulate me.
This is my book and it represents my thinking.

What to make
of this intellectual conversion of the worlds most notorious atheistas the
unfortunate subtitle labels Flew? The books breezy style does fuel doubts about
the degree to which Flews best thinking is on display. Apart from the state of
Flews mindwhatever that may beand the prose employed in the book, however,
his gradual conversion to deism is believable on many counts, not the least
being the force of the actual arguments advanced in the book. To be sure,
There Is a God is not cutting-edge philosophy of religion, as theistic
philosopher John Haldane concedes. It is not that kind of book. But it does put
forth in shorthand some very important arguments.

Begin at the
beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop, Lewis Carrolls King
told the White Rabbit. It is a profoundly commonsense procedure and has been
followed by, among others, theologians. They have usually begun their treatment
of the God-world relationship with creation in the beginning and moved on
through various loci to conclude with eschatology, the teaching about the last
things. Of course, we are tempted to say. How else would you proceed?

Ted Peters
suggests the reverse order in Anticipating Omega. He proposes a
retroactive ontology (p. 11). The first of nine theses that he sets out in the
first chapter of the book is unambiguous: God creates from the future, not the
past.

In recent
decades, a good deal of theology has been oriented to the future. Teilhards
emphasis on an Omega Point, the theology of hope associated with Moltmann, and
Pannenbergs memorable claim that If Jesus has been raised, then the end of the
world has begun have been significant. Peters, a theologian at Pacific Lutheran
Theological Seminary who has been heavily involved in science-theology dialogue,
took the step in his systematic theology text, GodThe Worlds Future
(Fortress, 2000), of organizing his theology around the theme of prolepsis, the
invasion of the present by the power of what is yet to come. Now in
Anticipating Omega he develops the implications of this idea with special
emphasis on relationships between faith and science.

Peters
introductory theses encompass traditional ideas as well as hot topics in recent
science-theology discussions. Creatio continua is emphasized along with
creatio ex nihilo, and God is seen as primary cause acting through
secondary causes. Evolutionary continuity with the natural world is emphasized.
The Genesis creation stories are not neglected but they can be read
eschatologically Sabbath does not just lie in the past.

The key to
all of this is the resurrection of Jesus as prolepsis of Gods final future, a
resurrection which is to be understood as a historical happeningand more.
Following the argument of Robert John Russell, Easter is to be seen as the
first instantiation of a new law of nature (p. 40). That idea clearly opens
fresh possibilities for reflection on relationships between Christian hope
and scientific predictions about the distant future.

Insistence
upon taking science seriously in this enterprise means that one must also take
seriously doubts about faith, and the doubt within faith (p. 57), which science
may provoke. Chapter 3 deals with the Barriers to Grace in a Scientific Era.
The next two chapters address specific areas of science which have been the
subjects of theological controversy, genetics, and evolution.

Evolution,
and especially the role of chance in the process, continues to be the most
neuralgic area in many science-religion discussions. The randomness of
evolution, and the apparent lack of purpose which this suggests, is especially
disturbing to many Christians. Here a retroactive ontology, seeing things from
the standpoint of the future while not neglecting the past, may be the new idea
that is needed to shake discussions loose from old dead ends which they reached
long ago. The role of chance is, Peters agrees, the knottiest challenge of the
Darwinian model of evolutionary biology. But he can respond to this challenge
by arguing that purpose comes from Gods futureit does not have to be built
in at the start (p. 104).

New
biomedical technologies allow us to go beyond the mere study of human evolution
and introduce the possibility of trying to influence the course of evolution.
Peters distinguishes three general uses of technology in this regardfor
therapy, for enhancement, or to accomplish aims of transhumanism. Therapeutic
aims are generally unproblematic, and he sees no fundamental objection to
enhancement as long as its purpose is not to enable some humans to benefit at
the expense of others. Transhumanism, on the other hand, is far more
questionable. Belief that our ultimate hope is participation in the resurrection
of Jesus will lead us to be very skeptical about such speculations as the
downloading of our minds into computers.

Something
that is lacking in many theology-science discussions is supplied here in chapter
8 with a treatment of Science in Pastoral Ministry. Some guidance is given for
relating scientific and theological worldviews with the aim of enhancing
proclamation of the gospel and for dealing with a few of the issues that clergy
are likely to encounter in their work.

Finally we
come to the last chapter, which is the only place where eschatology, teaching
concerning the last things, would be dealt with in traditional dogmatics.
In this work, however, there has been an eschatological emphasis all the way
through. The fact that this chapter is titled Proleptic Dignity, Proleptic
Ecology, and Proleptic Politics indicates that our understanding of Gods final
future is to influence thought and action in the present.

Anticipating Omega provides helpful approaches to a number of controversial
topics, including some that I have not had space to discuss here. But readers
need not limit their consideration to the ideas treated explicitly in this
volume. The idea of retroactive ontology almost begs to be connected with
suggestions about the sending of signals back in time which have been discussed
by physicists. It should provide some insights on ways in which Christians are
to read the Old Testament in light of the New. Other lines of investigation will
undoubtedly emerge in the course of study. We have here not just the conclusions
of one theologian but a work which I strongly recommend as a starting point for
promising research.

This is the
seventh volume in Vandenhoeck and Ruprechts Religion, Theology and Natural
Science series. It is encouraging to see a major publisher making available
solid work in the science-theology field.

HAVE A
NICE DOOMSDAY: Why Millions of Americans Are Looking Forward to the End of the
World by Nicholas Guyatt. New York: HarperCollins
Publishers, 2007. 288 pages. Paperback; $13.95. ISBN: 9780061152245.

Matthew 24:42
(NIV): Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord
will come. Jesus

About fifty
million Americans seem to believe, often fervently, that the apocalypse
(Christs Second Coming) will take place in the very near future (2002 CNN
poll). Englishman Nicolas Guyatt, a lapsed Catholic professor of history at
Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, investigates this phenomenonto his
mind, entirely irrational. He does so in a gentlemanly manner, inter- viewing
several of the prophecy superstars, Tim LaHaye, John Hagee, Todd Strandberg
(founder of www.RaptureReady.com), Dave Reagan, Jack Kinsella (Hal Lindseys
assistant), Joel Rosenberg, and others.

Guyatt begins
with questions that bothered him: Why would apocalyptic Christians �Ķ want to
get involved in politics? �Ķ If God is in charge, whats the point of electing a
Republican Congress? �Ķ Why do so many Americans believe that the world is about
to end? And should the rest of us be worried �Ķ? (p. 8).

Most of the
book covers the several interviews the author had with the players mentioned
above. LaHayes 1970s work with Henry Morris in the founding of the Institute
for Creation Research and his continuing search for the Ark is covered briefly.
LaHaye calculates that the Ark construction could have taken as few as
eighty-one years. He is quite convinced that it will be found during the
Tribulation. Hagees unique perspectives on Israel are discussed in depth,
probably more than they deserve.

Two messages
come out of this fascinating volume. The first is that the Religious Right is
severely fractured; not only do they not speak with one voice on many matters,
they feud with each other. Second, and more disturbing, is that many of the
leaders not only preach about their understanding of biblical prophecy, but move
beyond it to political activism, appearing as experts on talk shows, advising
some politicians, and acquiring, in Guyatts words, �Ķ a disquieting influence
in Washington (p. 267).

The fact
remains, however, Guyatt argues, that the prophecy gurus have yet to make even
one single definite prediction. Most of their warnings are vague; when they make
specific ones (Guyatt gives examples), they are embarrassingly incorrect. And
so, new editions of their writings appear, the gaffes erased as if they never
existed.

I very much
recommend this book for its unique perspective on our faith. As one who holds
basic Christian beliefs, including one in Christs Second Coming, it is
instructive to see how an outsider views those of our company who have taken
biblical prophecy perhaps a little too far.

In focused
detail and in broad scope, with grand themes and precise formulation, The
Jesus Legend: A Case for the Historical Reliability of the Synoptic Jesus
Tradition sets a high standard for thoughtful consideration of the titled
question. Eddy and Boyd work step by step through the disciplines and
perspectives that seek to discern whether the synoptic gospels are accurate in
their account of Jesus of Nazareth. The authors begin by considering, first,
epistemologically based skepticism about miracles, and then, the claims of
literary parallels of divine men from Judaism and pagan literature. Challenges
are explained with copious footnote references to the most compelling primary
sources for each argument. Then the arguments are carefully evaluated. The
authors continue this clear and fair process as they further consider scholarly
interpretations of both ancient non-Christian sources and those of Paul on the
historical Jesus.

Turning their
investigation to ancient oral cultures, the authors argue that early oral
recounting of Jesus has shaped the gospel genre. The synoptic gospels convey
the actual life and teachings of Jesus, but not by means of modern
historiography. What the gospels carry is the voice of Jesus, even if the exact
words are only recorded when the Greek text occasionally breaks into Aramaic.
The church from the beginning translates what Jesus says into Greek, so that his
message can be heard by the widest audience.

The authors
conclude that the portrait of Jesus drawn from Matthew, Mark, and Luke is the
most historically probable representation of the actual Jesus of history.
In particular, the idea that the Jesus stories are legend neglects the findings
of contemporary interdisciplinary studies of orally oriented ancient cultures.
The synoptic gospels bear significant marks of being trustworthy history.

In 479 pages,
Eddy and Boyd build a methodical and documented case that warrants the best
attention of the interested scholar or serious student.

When John
Polkinghorne writes on the intersection of science and religion, one pays
attention. Polkinghorne is one of the few individuals with credentials in both
science and theology who is saying new things about arguments well worn. A
former physicist, turned Anglican priest, Polkinghorne writes sympathetically
from within both camps rather than from one to the other. He writes with
humility and confidence, extending an open invitation to his readers to hear,
appreciate, engage, and walk with him.

This,
however, is not the book that one might expect from its title. One anticipates
yet another plea that science and religion are complementary enterprises
utilizing different methodologies to seek truth, and that the truth one finds
through revelation is of a kind different from what one discovers through
empiricism. This is not to say that Polkinghorne has not engaged in that
discussion. But this is not the text to which one should turn for such matters.
His concern here is epistemological, not metaphysical, and his method is
analogy, not integration.

Looking
specifically at quantum physics as a sub- discipline, he delineates how
conclusions have been reached in that enterprise, and then compares that process
to what he has encountered among theologians. His argument is that quantum
physicists and theologians use much the same reasoning to arrive at their
conclusions. His concern is that the practitioners of these respective
enterprises are largely unaware of the analogical patterns he identifies. His
hope is that, having become aware, they will be more sympathetic to each other.

Thus, the
language of kinship pervades this volume. He notes in the Preface that there
are significant degrees of cousinly relationship between the ways in which
science and theology conduct their truth-seeking enquiries into the nature of
reality (p. x). To make his case, however, Polkinghorne must attempt an
epistemological coup dtat; he must convince modernists and
postmodernists in both camps to forsake their more radical, oppositional
epistemologies for critical realism, a middle-of-the-road approach originally
proposed by Michael Polanyi, the Hungarian scientist-turned-philosopher who
penned Personal Knowledge in 1958. It is left unclear, however, to what
extent his argument is dependent on this epistemology.

The primary
question emerging from a reading of this work is whether argument by analogy
really works. While there are obvious similarities between the way that
scientists and theologians process information to arrive at conclusions, do
similar-sounding debates truly reflect a shared commitment to inquiry? Do they
simply reflect that all academic disciplines utilize similar cognitive processes
in their enterprises? And, if not, is there something unique about the realm of
quantum physics, with its toleration for counter-intuitive judgments, that is
not the norm in terms of scientific inquiry? If so, the argument from analogy
would be so localized as to be helpful only to those working within this
particular sub-discipline.

Also, some of
the comparisons are a bit stretched. For instance, Polkinghorne argues that
miracles are windows opening up a more profound perspective into divine reality
than that which can be glimpsed in the course of everyday experience, just as
superconductivity opened up a window into the behavior of electrons in metals
(p. 36). As an apologetic (and this text is an apologetic, of sorts),
this analogy would leave something to be desired. Likewise, Polkinghorne
includes several pages on the resurrection of Christ, drawing from N.T. Wrights
argument for its validity as history, comparing this conclusion to the discovery
of the particle nature of radiation (Compton scattering) by Arthur Compton in
1923. The correlation is not immediately obvious to the reader. In short, the
argument from analogy is probably most persuasive to those already persuaded,
although the comparisons are certainly intriguing and enjoyable to read.

However, it
should be noted that Polkinghorne has captured a helpful metaphor or two. It
indeed may be helpful to think of scientific inquiry and theological inquiry as
related, cousinly endeavors. And it may be equally beneficial for relationships
on both sides were theologians and scientists to acknowledge the similarities
inherent in their activities, even if they were occasionally at odds regarding
the import of their conclusions. That encouragement alone makes this a
worthwhile volume for both groups.

SAVING
DARWIN: How to Be a Christian and Believe in Evolution by Karl W.
Giberson. New York: HarperOne, 2008. 256 pages, index.
Paperback; $24.95.
ISBN: 9780061228780.

Physicist and
ASA member Karl Giberson offers an easy- to-read book that nicely combines a
historical analysis of the creation/evolution controversy with an advocacy for
evolutionary theory. Giberson begins the book by describing his own journey from
a fundamentalist creationism to an acceptance of evolution. He shares his story
with a gentle touch of humor, maintaining a respect for the fundamentalists he
once identified with. Throughout the book, Giberson examines both the scientific
and cultural aspects of evolutionary theory, noting that The creation-evolution
controversy is only, in the most trivial sense, a scientific dispute. It is,
instead, a culture war, fought with culture-war weapons by culture warriors.

After tracing
his personal history, Giberson traces the history of evolutionary theory,
beginning with a discussion of Charles Darwin. Here we learn of three DarwinsLady
Hopes deathbed convert, the sinister Darwin who devised evolution out of a
desire to undermine faith, and the actual Darwin. This third Darwin was
thoroughly a Victorian, a fairly ordinary Christian who considered the ministry,
but then fell away as he struggled with the various cruelties he saw in nature
particularly the cruelty that claimed the life of his beloved 11-year-old
daughter Annie. His loss of faith did not lead him to evolution; evolution and
loss brought him to agnosticism. Giberson stresses this point as an argument
against the second, sinister Darwin. At the same time, Giberson recognizes
that many fundamentalists will still see the devils influence in the actual
Darwins story:

His spiritual
journey was at odds with fundamentalism, which holds that true seekers will
inevitably find their version of faith. To fail to find this faith can only mean
that one is not truly seeking; to abandon faith is simply perverted; and
to create a theory that might compel people to reject faith is simply evil.

Darwin was
also Victorian in that he believed in progress. Even as he promoted a theory
that depends, in part, on randomness, he did expect that life would be propelled
forward.

Darwins
tendencies have solidified over time as Darwinism has been used to support both
atheism and Social Darwinism. Giberson first critiques Richard Dawkins and other
well-known atheistsdrawing on some of the work he did recently with Mariano
Artigas, The Oracles of Science: Celebrity Scientists versus God and Religion
(2007). As part of his analysis, Giberson argues that biblical criticism was
initially much more problematic for Christianseven fundamentaliststhan
evolutionary theory. Giberson then ventures where very few evolutionary
scientists dare to go: into an examination of Social Darwinism. In a solid,
well-written book, the chapter on Darwins Dark Companions stands out;
this chapter alone makes the book worth buying. Here Giberson admits that Social
Darwinism and its resulting eugenics programs have not been a historical
aberration, but a logical (although not inevitable) conclusion of natural
selection. He argues that by ignoring or denying this connection, evolutionists
have only made it easier for creationists to reject evolutionary theory.

Social
Darwinism certainly was a major concern of William Jennings Bryan, prosecutor in
the Scopes trial. Giberson thus transitions into a series of chapters on the
various evolution/creation trials, stretching from Scopes to more recent
Intelligent Design cases. He credibly assesses the arguments and explains why
creationists and ID advocates cannot win these cases.

Giberson
concludes Saving Darwin with a comparison of physics and its grand
theories with biology and evolutionary theory. Unlike many physicists, Giberson
demonstrates a deep respect for the otherness of biology. He observes that

Evolution is
a solid and robust scientific theory, because it explains things about the world
and relates countless otherwise disconnected facts to each other. It is not
a science because it resembles physics.

Evolutionary
theory certainly has contained some mistakes (which Giberson briefly examines)
and is underdetermined, but it still has incredible scientific support and
explanatory power.

Saving
Darwin offers a powerful analysis of evolutions scientific and cultural
impacts. Despite this books gentle tone, however, it probably would not be a
convincing text for an ardent creationist, and may even be threatening for many
young students who have not yet questioned creationisms claims. Instead, this
book should be a useful guide for the student who has already started to examine
his or her creationist beliefs, and who is seeking a way to re-think and
reconcile his or her faith with modern biology. Gibersons book will also be a
useful resource for anyone interested in the science-religion dialogue.

Christopher
Kaiser is professor of historical and systematic theology at the Western
Theological Seminary. With doctorates in astro-geophysics and Christian
dogmatics and divinity, it is natural for his writing to involve both science
and theology. His 1991 book, Creation andthe History of Science,
won a John Templeton Prize for Outstanding Books in Science and Religion. His
new book reflects his belief that science and theology should not be viewed as
two unrelated disciplines, and that it would be desirable for theology to
address questions that are also related to other disciplines.

The author
endeavors to go beyond the questions that science normally asks and examine the
foundations that have made the current state of science possible. The
foundations of scientific endeavor that he discusses are the existence of a
special kind of universe, a special form of human intelligence, a historically
conditioned culture of belief, and an industrial infrastructure. Following an
introductory chapter, there are chapters devoted to each of these four
foundations, explaining the question and then showing how there is a theological
perspective on it. A final chapter summarizes the authors conclusions.

The first
chapter notes that the universe is subject to laws. Science requires a lawful
universe in order to study it. But why should a universe (or a multiverse, if it
exists) be lawful? A Cosmic Lawgiver can be posited to resolve this issue, and
the author argues that this lawgiver need not be impersonal and removed from
nature and history but can be the God of the prophets.

The second
chapter deals with an anthropological foundation. It concerns the genetic basis
for human intelligence capable of doing science. Just as there are people today
whose brains are capable of the type of reasoning necessary for advanced
scientific research, there must have been people in the paleolithic age with the
same genes as produced these modern brains. Can natural selection account for
this sort of intelligence? If so, what were these mental capabilities used for?
The suggested solution that the author describes relates to religion (shamanism)
in the paleolithic. Cave paintings have been interpreted as giving evidence of
belief in soul journey, travel to and from a spirit world. Mental processes are
suggested that may be involved both in such religious practice and in scientific
research.

In the third
chapter, the question is raised as to why people want to do science. The author
recounts the history of science-fostering beliefs from ancient Babylon and Egypt
to modern scientists. He sees a continuous theological tradition in which the
world is governed by mathematical laws and humans can discern and describe these
laws. He sees this as countering the widespread notion that religious faith and
scientific research are entirely separate.

The fourth of
the foundations of scientific endeavor is societal. Our present advanced state
of science has been made possible by the availability of the necessary
technologies, and the industries that produce them are driven by economic
factors. The author gives examples of recent major scientific discoveries that
would not have been possible without new technological advances. However, he
sees market-driven concerns as secularizing the technical professions. Thus the
needed specialization requires the de facto separation of science and
spirituality, a contradiction of the results of the analyses in the previous
three chapters. He concludes that this paradox calls for a theology of history
and an eschatology of scientific endeavor.

In the
summary chapter Kaiser outlines his ideas as to how theological discourse can
recover something of the wholeness that characterized theology in pre-industrial
times.

This is a
scholarly work appropriate for the authors peers in academia but would also
appeal to anyone who is interested in science and likes to ponder deep
philosophical or religious questions. The interested reader is likely to agree
that the author has correctly identified the foundations of scientific endeavor
and is also likely to be prompted to give deep thought to questions suggested in
the book and whether he might be able to expand on the authors answers.

Does culture
matter? Author T. M. Moore has set out to argue that it matters very much. Moore
is dean of the Centurions Program of the Wilberforce Forum, which exists to
train Christian leaders to effectively analyze, critique and engage the culture
around them from a Christian perspective. Moore is eminently qualified to speak
to the issue of culture and faith. He is the author or editor of twenty books
and has essays, reviews, articles, papers, and poetry in dozens of highly
regarded journals and websites.

In this book,
the author is looking for principles from history to inform an authentic
contemporary Christian cultural consensus. Although he has written convincingly
that culture does in fact matter, he has not accomplished the goal implied by
his subtitle, to create a consensus on Christian cultural engagement. The
consensus contained in the last chapter is vague and theoretical, with much to
ponder from a theoretical perspective but little of substance for how my life
and profession might better engage culture.

Moore has
used an interesting approach, each chapter being a historical look at a person
or event that is a good example of the gospel engaging and transforming culture,
followed by a modern example of a person, work, or trend that resembles it. For
example, he links Augustines The City of God to the journal First
Things, and the Celtic approach to Christian art to the work of guitarist
Phil Keaggy. John Calvins approach to Christian education and Dutch statesman
Abraham Kuypers role in politics make for fascinating reading on effective
cultural contributions in previous generations. He also highlights the work of
musician David Wilcox and poet Czeslaw Milosz as modern examples of cultural
engagement. Interesting questions for study or discussion follow each chapter.

I agree with
Moore that many Christians are escaping culture and creating safe enclaves, and
need to reconsider how to truly be salt and light in the world. However, I am
not convinced that cultural engagement is as central to the Christian life as he
would make it. For example, he makes the statement that �Ķ the followers of
Christ today are not becoming any better equipped for the inescapable work
of engaging and critiquing contemporary culture, or the glorious challenge of
creating viable Christian cultural alternatives. Is creating Christian
cultural alternatives really the goal of the gospel? The coming of the kingdom
of God in Christ was not nearly so culturally engaged as it appears Moore
would wish the church were today.

The book is
something of a Colson advertisement, which makes sense considering the author
is dean of the Centurions Program of the Wilberforce Forum, connected to
Colsons Prison Fellowship ministry. Simplistic conclusions such as all the
failing Christian education projects were somewhat irritating, considering that
those people conducting these failing projects are at least as committed to
the cause as Moore and his Centurions Program.

As a person
deeply committed to and involved in cultural engagement, I heartily agree with
the gist of this book, in spite of my occasional frustrations. It makes for good
reading and addresses a major challenge for the church. This book could well be
used in a college course on faith and society, with many opportunities for
further research on the people and events introduced in the book.

George Yancey
outlines clearly the positions of racism within the US today: colorblindness,
no judgments based on race because race will carry no social importance;
Anglo-conformity, the real source of racial strife is economic disparity;
multiculturalism, a society in which distinct racial and ethnic groups preserve
their own identities; and white responsibility, where the dominant group
creates problems of race and ethnicity.

Yancey
outlines the strengths and weaknesses of each position by examining their
history and how Christians have adapted to them. White responsibility, for
example, identifies the power of sin in creating racial conflict, yet leaves out
the important features of forgiveness and redemption. Multiculturalism
recognizes the arrogance and selfishness that resides in each culture, yet
implies that people of color are superior to the majority group. Yancey wisely
concludes, In an ideal world, multiculturalists would challenge European
American culture but not criticize it any more than they criticize other
cultures (p. 63).

Yancey
suggests that the origin of the Anglo- conformity model can be found in a famous
1965 report by Daniel P. Moynihan, who proposed government programs for black
families to rescue black subculture from the lasting effects of racial
oppression (p. 43). Yancey, however, believes that the model insists that class
issues outweigh race issues and thus fuels the race versus class debate.

The flaw of
colorblindness is that it assumes that once race is unimportant, then racial
inequalities will fade. But ignoring race leads to strife because it minimizes
the pain of considering a particular race as inferior. The philosophy that
underlies this perspective is one of a political ideology where the best person
wins as people of other races compete against one another. Yancey concludes that
such a model is built on individualistic ideas of sin and does not address the
structural aspects of racism.

The second
part of the book attempts to articulate a Christian approach to deal with racism
by examining spiritual issues. Yancey describes a mutual responsibility model
that will help bring about racial reconciliation. Because of our sinful nature
and racial mistrust, we need to examine the results of historical and
institutional racism. This will include how we have stolen Indian land, fled to
the suburbs, and allocated money for education and crime prevention. What
follows must be individual and corporate repentance where interracial
friendships and racial healing take place. Corporate repentance will assure
racial minorities that they will have help in their struggles.

Similarly,
minorities must recognize the moral nature of attitudes and actions and not
complain that tensions are the result of a power struggle. Yancey cautions
minorities not to play the race card. He concludes that the only way to break
the cycle of abuse is to be ready to forgive ones former oppressors (p. 109).

Jesus, of
course, is the ultimate reconciler who not only prayed that Christians might
be united, but demonstrated (for example, with the woman at the well) that
arrogance and paternalism were not the answers. Yancey reminds us that God has
not given us a spirit of fear and yet fear is a powerful factor in race
relations today.

Fear prevents
European Americans from being willing to enter into genuine dialogue �Ķ because
they do not want to say something that will get them categorized as racist.
People of color fear being ridiculed and labeled as troublemakers, so the fear
of one group plays off the other and a cycle of dysfunctional race relations
results.

So, how do we
begin to solve the impasse? Yancey suggests that we focus on multiracial
churches, social networks, political activism, and a revision of attitudes and
practices at Christian academic institutions. If we can put aside group
interests, are open to repenting and forgiving, are accountable to other races
and have a teachable spirit, we can commence activities that imitate Jesus and
make a difference in our own attitudes and ultimately in our society.